A 91 Year Old Pain In The Ass

Posted on Sun Jun 21st, 2020 @ 3:22am by Cailus Griffin
Edited on on Wed Jun 24th, 2020 @ 5:46am

Mission: New Moon Rising
Location: Starfleet Intelligence Headquarters (Beijing, Earth)
Timeline: After "The Talk"

Beijing was a wonderful modern city, a centre of Chinese culture and one of the most famous of Earth's cities with its sprawnling megalopolis, thriving markets and merrily frantic locals. Above the city, freighters constantly thronged through the night sky, swimming through an ocean of light. It was emblematic of humanity's enlightenment, a symbol of Earth's prosperity alongside cities like Paris and Mombasa, and Cailus saw absolutely none of it. He beamed directly from Ireland to the Chinese office of Starfleet Intelligence, emerging from the facility's dedicated transporter with a decidedly disgruntled look. The facility was surprisingly open, having been built in one of the skyscrapers with a glorious view of the surrounding city, but Cailus struggled to care. He moved through the headquarter's security barriers swiftly, the uniform earning a few accepting nods from the officers who processed him. They didn't see many actual uniformed Starfleeters here, particularly fellow Security officers. Nevertheless, the headquarters had an oddly

The waiting area was small, but Cailus was only there a few minutes before an Andorian Commander strode up, smiling. Her black undershirt was an ominous counterpart to her cheerful countenance.

"Ensign," the Commander greeted him. "I apologise for the inconvenience of all this. Thank you for coming so promptly."

Cailus wasn't in the mood, simply nodding stiffly. "Of course, sir. How can I help you?"

The Commander's cheerfulness didn't dim a bit. "This way, please," she said, leading him into a nearby office. It looked surprisingly normal. Cailus had been expecting a cold and efficient workplace, but instead it felt quite organic, with family pictures on the desk and even a few small Chinese statuettes on the shelves. If not for the Starfleet-issue computers in the desk and wall, the office could've belonged to anybody in the surrounding skyscrapers.

The Commander sat down behind the desk, motioning for Cailus to do the same, then leaned forward. She was remarkably young and attractive, two traits that Cailus suspected she had enhanced artificially for her work. "My name is Commander Jumsin," she said. "I will be debriefing you on the Battle of Menelax."

Cailus resisted the urge to roll his eyes. It was taking a great deal of effort to focus on the here and now rather than what was waiting back in Wicklow. "Respectfully, sir, I am not permitted to disclose all information about that incident with someone who does not disclose their required codewords." His irritation starting to show, he added "I'm a Security man, Commander. You don't need to check that I can handle classified information."

Jumsin's smile was still annoyingly bright, but her eyes was calculating and assessing, the antennae aimed squarely at Cailus. "Perhaps so. Unfortunately, I don't have the luxury of picking and choosing, Ensign. I am required to do this with all officers that I debrief. Now, as you correctly pointed out: 45-Baker-62-Sigma. Let's get started."

"Yes sir." Cailus resigned himself to simply endure, and was thus completely blown away by Jumsin's first question.

"Do you," she asked, her smile still as constant and frustrating as a mosquito, "believe that the information you possess is sufficient for the Federation to begin an armed conflict with the Tholian Assembly?"

Blinking for a second, Cailus forced himself to focus, his irritation fading away. "I am not an expert of intergalactic politics, sir," he replied formally. "That kind of assessment is for more qualified officers to make."

"But your opinion," Jumsin insisted gently, tapping away idly at her computer.

Cailus hesitated. "I...don't believe so, Commander. At the time it might have pushed us to do something stupid, but now...no. The Federation has seen too much war lately to be drawn into a pointless conflict, even if our resources weren't also being stretched by the Gorn and the Klingons. That's just my opinion, sir, and I might be completely wrong."

The SI Commander considered him for a moment, her smile having now faded completely, before finally nodding. "Very good. In case you're wondering, Ensign...well, let me put it this way. In 2297, how many people knew about the incident? Six? Seven?"

"Five people who were there, sir," Cailus said with a frown, "including me. I don't know who learned about it after Captain Giuseppe returned to Earth."

"Three." Jumsin was now entirely serious. "The Captain duly reported it, as regulations mandated, to a senior officer at Starfleet Intelligence. This officer then reported it to the Chief of Starfleet Intelligence, who reported it to the President, who promptly buried it in the deepest, darkest hole she could find. In the ninety one years since the war, six of those people have since passed away and the seventh suffers from severe mental deterioration. At present, only three people know the full details of what occurred on Menelax in 2297. You and I are two of those people. I was only authorised access after the Romulans told us they'd recovered you."

With a sigh, Cailus leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. "I understand, Commander. I am a security risk to the Federation." He paused as the enormity of the statement washed over him. "I will guard that information with my life. Literally, if I must."

"Good, then that's over with then!" Jumsin suddenly grinned, confusing the hell out of Cailus. It was if a switch had flicked from 'serious' to 'jovial'. "I do apologise, but it is my job to assess these things. Anyway, onto the fun part: you commanded D Company during the ground offensive, correct?"

"Er...yes, sir." Cailus raised an eyebrow. "That part isn't classified."

"No, perhaps not," she replied, her antennae splaying wide, "but I was hoping to enlist your services, Ensign. Don't worry! I can see what you're thinking, but it's an advisory role only. We simply need someone who has direct combat experience with the Tholian Rachnil Brigade, and that's you. You get to watch our operatives work themselves silly, and you get to stand there and criticise them. That's a fun evening, right?"

"Ah...yes, sir." Cailus saw right through her optimism, and his stomach sank. There was a very pretty girl waiting who, if Starfleet had their way, would be waiting quite a bit longer. "Is it possible to...delay...the training, maybe? Do it tomorrow or-?"

"I'm afraid not," Jumsim said with a tone of voice that somehow grated on his nerves. "The mission is time-sensitive and team deploys tomorrow. Moreover, all knowledge is tightly classified. Now, the holodeck is online and waiting for us."

She stood, and Cailus reluctantly stood as well. "This is going to take a while, isn't it? Longer than you said in the message?"

"Well, that depends entirely on you, doesn't it? Although I trust your professionalism enough to not let our people out there without being one hundred percent ready."

The Commander's emphasis on "one hundred percent" only served to depress Cailus further. So much for shoreleave.